


treacherous

by currahees



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 14:00:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20640335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/currahees/pseuds/currahees
Summary: "put your lips close to mine,as long as they don't touch."ORthe one in which george and joe are soulmates.





	treacherous

**Author's Note:**

> hey! it's been a while since i've written a luztoye fic so pls be kind.  
also find me on tumblr, my username is speirtons.

Everyone is born with a grey patch. Some are hidden, some are more visible than others, some so small you wouldn’t even notice them. But George’s was pretty obvious. The whole left side of his left leg was covered in an uneven grey mess, running from the middle of his thigh down to his ankles. He didn’t really give it too much thought, it was just _there._

The grey patches became a frequent topic of conversation during boot camp. The men were bored, desperate and noisy. They wanted to know everyone’s secrets and who had already met their soulmate.

“Mine’s on my side,” Harry says, pulling up his shirt to show the men. A watercolour of blues and reds covered his side where there was a clear handprint. “Kitty accidentally bumped into me one morning, as soon as her hand landed there I felt it changing.”

One of the men sat on his bunk, somewhat removed from their conversation spoke up. “It’s all bullshit.”

“Ah, so you’re one of those?” George pipes up, sensing the chance to crack a few jokes.

“One of what?” The man moves forward and George recognises him. They had been in training together for less than a few weeks, he had been transferred to their unit last minute.

“The ones who don’t believe, say it’s all fake,” George clarifies. A few of the men return to their conversations, leaving George to talk to the new guy himself.

He scoffs, shaking his head. “It is all fake, you can’t convince me otherwise.”

“Do you not have a mark or somethin’?” George asks.

“I got a mark, but it’s still bullshit. Ain’t no such thing as soulmates, no one’s gonna love someone else unconditionally. Love’s bullshit.”

“That’s your favourite word, isn’t it? Bullshit?” George jokes.

Surprisingly, the man lets out a small chuckle.

“You got a name, newbie?”

“Joe Toye, what about you?”

“Luz. George Luz. Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” George throws his hand out dramatically to shake Joe’s. For a split second, he thinks he feels something, like a weird electric shock. But before he can analyse it further he’s being called back into the conversation by Perconte who was asking him to tell the story from the other day.

A few days later and they’re all being forced to run Currahee. Again. Johhny and Perconte were arguing over who’s fault it was that all their weekend passes had been revoked but George was more concerned with his missing shirt.

“Hey! Any of you dumbasses seen my PT shirt?” He yells, searching through his bunk.

“Ah shit George, if you don’t have it Sobel’s gonna murder you,” Perconte says.

“Yeah, no shit Perco. Help me look for it,” George replies, pulling his pillow off his bed.

“I’ll help you look.”

George looks up to find Joe standing near his bed. It takes him a second to realise he’s being serious. “Alrigh’, thanks Joe. I swear I left it around here somewhere,” he mumbles, dropping to the floor to look under his bed. George almost hits his head on the bottom of his bed when he finds it. Somehow it had ended up all the way under his bed, he curses himself for not putting it away properly. “Found it!” He announces, but Joe isn’t the only pair of boots stood at the end of his bed.

“Luz! What the hell are you doing?” Sobel yells.

“Misplaced my PT gear, but I’ve got it now. We’re all good, sir,” George replies, resisting the urge to say something he’ll regret later. In the short few minutes he had spent searching the rest of the cabin had cleared out, leaving him and Joe stood there.

“Care to explain why you and Toye are not in your gear?” Sobel demands, glaring at the two of them. George quickly glances over and realises Joe is stood in his usual uniform, not having the chance to change yet.

“Um, why not?” George replies, grimacing at his own response.

“Change into full gear and equipment, you two are running Currahee twice, full uniform.”

“Yes, sir,” both men reluctantly salute, mumbling as they change.

George just about collapses when they return to their dorms several hours later, covered in sweat. He almost rips his uniform off, desperate to be out of the heavy clothing that was sticking to his body.

“I’m sorry ‘bout that Joe, didn’t mean to get you caught up in that with me,” George sighs, sitting on his bed and pulling his shoes off. “I really thought Sobel was gonna go easy on us, stupid of me I know,” he carries on, laughing to himself as he pulls his shirt off and changes into shorts. “Joe?” He realises he isn’t responding, but rather is sat deadly still on his bed.

He goes to Joe’s bed, hesitantly approaching. Joe had pulled most of his clothes off too, both men complaining about the heat of the summer evening. George sits next to him, their legs touching slightly. “You okay?”

And then it hits him.

The colours, the overwhelming rush, the breathlessness.

His leg feels as if it’s on fire and when he looks down, he thinks it is for a moment. Vibrant oranges and reds erupt across the space that used to be a dull grey. Darker yellows settle around the outline, the rest a beautiful blend of all of George’s favourite things. Crisp leaves in the fall, bright sun rises, the red spines of the books that he spent his childhood reading over and over until the pages fell out.

When he finally pulls his eyes off his own leg, he finds Joe looking down at a similar sight. The other man's leg was a mix of reds and yellows, the same look of shock on his face. For once, George is speechless.

Thankfully, Joe’s got him there. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck,” George mumbles. A small smirk makes tugs at the corners of his lip, “still think it’s bullshit?”

**Author's Note:**

> not a representation of the real men, this work is based off the portrayals in the hbo mini series. no disrespect intended towards the real war veterans. not edited.


End file.
